Memory
by Mynthia Fae
Summary: What happens between two lonely people on Valentines day


_Another Valentines day._

_Alone_

_Again._

A deep growl escaped his throat unbidden before he could cut it off.

And now Molly is going to think me in a foul mood. She would be thinking correctly, but it is more difficult to put on a happy face when she knows what's really going on.

He tried not to dwell on the fact that he had spent every Valentines day alone since he was 13. That day was something he treasured though. It was his first and only date he had ever partaken in with Lily Evans, though she had never considered it such. Two lonely friends sharing a holiday intended for lovers was all it had ever been for her. No chocolate, no flowers, no mushy cards, no proclamations of love.

I should have told her then how much I loved her. I should have confessed everything to her then. She was the one person who could have accepted me for what I am. Loup-garou. A werewolf.

He shook his head to clear those thoughts. Lily Evans had been dead 20 years. There was no reason to dwell on these thoughts any longer. He growled again, pulling his trousers up over his "good morning" reminder.

_Bloody hell, don't you ever quit? _He projected his thought down to his groin.

Expecting a party of some sorts, he made his way down the stairs to the living room. Surprised, he found no brightly covered decorations, no smell of home backed goodies that Molly was in habit of making for any kind of special occasion. There was nothing that assaulted his senses other than a light mix of jasmine and vanilla that drifted from the couch.

He could see by the waning light that evening was drawing near. Where was the merry voices of those who usually found joy within these walls?

He neared the source of the scent, and as he came closer he recognized the busy hair hanging over the end of the sofa. Hermione was deeply engrossed in a book, as was usual of her. He crouched by the end, trying not to disrupt her reading while seeing what it was she was reading. But before he could do so, the smell assaulted his senses again. He breathed it deeply.

"_Tu sens plus belle qu'un jardin dans les premiers rayons de soleil_." He thought out loud, rousing Hermione from her reading.

"Come again?" she said turning to face him. "Sorry, even all the time I spend around Fleur I am still not fluent in French. I can learn complex potions but French eludes me." The pout on her face brought a smile to his eyes though he had no idea why.

"Nothing." He cleared his throat in an attempt to move the lump which had mysteriously appeared. "Where is everyone?"

The bushy haired brunette before him sat up to make room for him on the sofa where he joined her rather uncomfortably. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have gone off for a romantic dinner without the kids. Harry and Ginny went out to celebrate in their own way, only Merlin knows – or wants to know – what that means! Bill and Fleur are visiting the Delacour's. The twins, I am sure, are up to no good somewhere. Probably selling off some new lover's jokes or what not-"

Hermione was rambling, as she tended to do when asked a question. Remus couldn't help interrupting. "And what are your plans, Hermione?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "To sit here, without a date, and read Romeo and Juliet until my heart bleeds from the mush. What about you, professor?"

That last bit ate at him. She had always referred to him as a professor long after he had resigned his post. Long after she had ceased to be a student. In a small way it made him feel proud. That he had left a positive mark on someone. That he was remembered for something other than a monster. But tonight it ate at him for a reason he could not pinpoint.

He only sighed.

Hermione smiled. "Shall we celebrate a quiet evening as bachelors tonight then?" She rose from her seat without waiting for an answer and nearly danced into the kitchen only to return a few moments later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She poured wine into each glass and handed one to her companion. "To being single and being happy." She raised her glass.

Though Remus could not echo the statement as he hated every minute he was alone, he toasted with her. Many more toasts followed, and a few bottles of wine were made empty in the following hours.

Giggling hysterically, Hermione was telling a story. "And then, by the end of the night, Krum pulled me close and… No we were like this close," Hermione scooted closer to him. "And he was trying so hard to say my name correctly, as he felt it meant a great deal to me. The poor boy was near tears of frustrat-"

She stopped suddenly realizing how close she was to Remus. "Professor, I really think that we have had too much to drink."

"As do I," he said, his words barely more audible than a whisper. He meant to pull away but found himself drawn to her, their lips meeting in a soft yet pleasant touch. She was the first to move, and it wasn't away as he had thought it would be.

Merlin help me.

The giggles were gone, and all that was left in it's place was pure ecstasy of the moment. Gradually the intensity of the kiss increased, tongues dancing together and bodies moving closer to one another. Before he knew it, Hermione was straddling his hips.

He pulled abruptly back and stood up, Hermione sliding from his lap. She landed with a _thunk _on her derriere . He felt suddenly sober once again.

"Hermione. We should stop. We're not being smart right now."

She looked up from the floor, an expression filled with hurt written across her face. "Love consists in being stupid together."

He sighed deeply. "But this is not love." He looked her in her eyes, which were wide looked as though they were having trouble focusing. "At least not in the way you perceive. I love you, Hermione, as only a friend truly can. You have been there for me during my worst times when no one else would be. While I find you attractive, I find I cannot do this." He conjured a blue rose and handed it to her.

With a quick peck on the cheek, he left the room. His heart beat finally slowing to it's natural pace. He closed his door behind him, not remembering going to his room. _It's the wine_, he assured himself as he lay back on his bed.

His mind drifted back to when he was 13, sitting on the Gryffindor common room couch with his best friend.

_Lily sat there, her bright red hair enhancing the Gryffindor colors in the common room. She was a picture of perfection as she looked at him telling him about her morning, her green eyes alive with excitement as she discussed a complex potion. She paused, breathing heavily for she had not breathed in more than a few sentences._

_Silly Lily, he had thought to himself. Always forgetting the simple things like breathing._

_She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in all his days. Even in the wild, nothing could compare to what sat before him. Without thinking he leaned forward and kissed her, his lips crushing hers as an untamed growl escaped him in the pleasure of the moment. _

_She shrieked a little and pulled back, falling off the couch. "Remus!"_

He grimaced at the memory. It had been so long since he had thought about more than his joy that day. It had ruined their friendship, though no one but him knew it. They remained close, but he would not sit as close, or talk as openly as they had in the years before that.

No, I will not ruin another friendship like that again.

_Hermione._

_My angel._

_My innocent femme fatale._

* * *

A/N: My response to a few different Challenges (Some I don't think I actually got around to signing up for .)  
"Valentines Day Challenge" from A Catholic Girl  
"Colored Roses Challenge" from Color in a Black-White World  
"The French Challenge" from Gabby Black

"_Love consists in being stupid together." (Paul Valéry)_


End file.
